Their Piece of Life
by Di-Bee
Summary: If the only way she can be that close to him is by playing their piano piece, then she would do so, no matter how much it hurts. Helen/John, Romance/Drama


Title : Their piece of life

Author : DiBee

Summary : If the only way she can be that close to him is by playing their piano piece, then she would do so, no matter how much it hurts. Helen/John, Romance/Drama

Rating : K+

Disclaimer : I just borrow those amazing characters from their rightful authors, no copyright infringement intended.

Author Note : Thanks to Passionate Cec' for giving me that link for the piano cover for Taio Cruz, Break Your Heart, because it did, and produced that. Thanks for the bunny, too ^^

I had been trying to mix music and romance for a while, and found out it worked better when I was feeling down. If you feel the need to hug someone tight after reading this, then I strongly encourage you to do so. If you feel the need to send me a review, I also encourage you to do so, and remind you that every word counts when it comes to make an author smile, be happy and have a good day. At least, it does for me.

Helen looked over her shoulder as she stepped in the room, closing and locking the door behind her. She did not want anyone to barge in, needed her peace, and that very room was both her heaven and her hell. In that instrument were trapped as many good memories as worst nightmares, and what she was about to give life to was of the latter kind. Part of it anyway.

Taking a deep breath, she caressed the lid almost lovingly before sitting and actually opening it, revealing the keys to the soft moonshine. She had not switched on the light, she knew what she played well enough, and the darker the room, the more alive the memories. Despite her best efforts, she could not fight it anymore, that need she had to feel him next to her again, his hands on her skin, his breath in her hair.

She began to play, stroking one key after the other as if they were living beings she was to take care of, part of a bigger organism that was helping her breathe, helping her tears to fall, her mood to falter as a dying rose. The music was like a ghost summoned by her side, a tall and slender ghost, with that very special smile of his, the one he only ever gave to her.

She was playing their piece. The one they had once played together. He had always pretended to being terrible at music, but she had showed him how to move his hands and fingers over the keys, and had soon come to be fascinated by the way he did so as he repeated, over and over, what little she had managed to teach him.

He was playing the bass, sometimes humming along, his voice melting her heart, making it pond in her chest, her fingering faltering before she regained control of her emotions. She would play the most tricky part, and he would occasionally stop himself, just watch her play, his hands loosing themselves in her neck, her soft curls, her back, making it ever more difficult for her to keep her emotions in check. Once, only once, he had stopped her abruptly, kissed her, her hands frozen in mid-arpeggio, as if the time had suspended its course just for the both of them, the music resonating in their hearts, healing and hurting at the same time.

As she played it over and over again, all that time after that kiss, Helen could still feel his lips on hers, his body pressed against hers, and ignored the tears that had reached the collar of her shirt already.

She was assuming both parts, the strain it put in her fingers suddenly welcome. It should not have been so easy to make him come to life again.

She felt his hand brush her hair away from her neck again, and could not repress a sob. She could barely make out the keys through her tears, but she knew the piece too well to be bothered by that. She felt his lips against her neck, and moaned to herself, wondering if she would ever be able to stop, to stop playing, stop desiring him, wanting him, loving him, stop him from being the only man for her. But she knew it would never be. They had signed up for eternity, and their wish had been granted. They had just missed the small notifications, the ornaments, trills, and others appoggiaturas. The ones that would make their piece of life so much harder to play well, and keep playing.

She could smell his scent, now, smell him, feel the warmth of his skin against hers, the playfulness in his attitude, the seriousness in his position. She could relive every detail, her eyes closed to appreciate the illusion more fully. Her tempo had considerably quickened, and was slowly but surely going back to normal, as was the rhythm of her heart, still beating madly in her chest for now, so much it hurt. But pain was good, pain meant she was alive, and still there to keep the memory of him alive. If she could not save him, save them, she could at least save this.

She felt his lips against hers, and knew it wasn't an illusion before she had even opened her eyes. His lips were too soft, the hands caressing her cheeks too loving, the single tear falling on her cheek was none of hers. She did not stop playing until the end of the piece, letting the music linger and charm them for as long as she possibly could before the laws of physics had the sound faltering, the one of her speeding heart almost too loud to bear.

The kiss turned up unbelievably tender, almost lazy. She was half standing, he was half bent down to meet her, both making some sacrifices to meet the other, as they had always done in the past, as they would always do. No matter how much time would pass, how much pain they would have to bear, how many hardships they would have to go through, they would still find solace in the other's arms.

"How did you know?" She whispered against his lips, so close he nearly couldn't hear.

"Does it really matter?" There was tiredness in his voice, their eyes searching in the other's something that was possibly not there anymore. Or was it?

"It does to me, John." She admitted, her fingers grazing his cheek, his neck, any patch of skin within reach, tracing patterns, reading the slightest change in his expression.

"I heard you play. It felt almost like you were calling to me..."

"I was." She cut him before he could add anything else. What was left to be said could not be expressed by words alone. She drew his face toward hers again, resuming the kiss, drinking in the sight of him, enjoying every millisecond of truce in that war they seemed to have been fighting since the energy creature had stolen him from her.

Once again, the time had stopped, was only barely suspended, but that was enough for them, for now. It wouldn't last, it couldn't last. Their fermata was not there yet. No time could be held for an eternity...


End file.
